


Waves of a Hurricane

by presidentcas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4586451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/presidentcas/pseuds/presidentcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for the August challenge on spnwritingchallenge.tumblr.com. The theme was water and my prompt was Hurricane. For more info check out their tumblr, or for triggers, music etc. see my post at casbakingpie.tumblr.com/post/123/hurricane</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waves of a Hurricane

The soft leather of the Impala's bench seat wasn't as soothing as it usually was. The roads were wet and slippery, but Dean didn't mind. He rather enjoyed the loud noise of the raindrops hitting the metal roof. He felt like the rain matched his emotions, too. The ones Castiel taught him to analyze, and talk about, and notice. There was something sad about the dark clouds and the wetness of the rain, but also an anger, hidden behind the piercing and violent splashes. Dean wished he could just merge in with the rain and disappear. He wished he wouldn't have to to think, or deal with his shit, or live. He'd avoided those things for a while, drowning his thoughts in sex and alcohol, but there was no way he could do that anymore. What had been a single man tear on his cheek was joined by a whole bunch of other tears, and Dean made an abrupt noise. His vision blurry from the tears, he pulled over and into a bus stop. A couple of hours earlier the impala would be immersed entirely in the darkness, but the slightest amount of morning sun stopped that from happening.

Dean opened the car door in a desperate need of air. He needed to clear his head, and he needed it right now. Seeing next to nothing, he stumbled out of the car, past a few trees and onto a small beach. Reduced to a crying mess, Dean fell down in the sand. He put his head in his hands and silently prayed he would drown in tears, but it didn't seem to work. After several minutes he was still very much alive and on the same beach, eyes puffy and sore, mouth tasting salty. Dean looked out of the water. He wasn't sure when, but it had stopped raining at some point. He missed the rain, the hopelessness and sorrow it carried. He used to like the water, but now the rippling waves only caused even more anger. His fingers searched the sand next to him, grabbing a decent-sized stone, and he tossed it in the water. The splash was nowhere near big enough or loud enough. Dean cursed the stone for being such a disappointment, but quickly realized he had no right to do so. Dean was the real disappointment.

His thoughts wandered to the time he first met Castiel. Dean had liked a lot of guys in his time, and a lot of girls, too, but none of them had been anything like Castiel. With most people, if was just a matter of liking their looks, of his body wanting to fulfill it's needs. Castiel was the most beautiful man Dean had ever laid eyes upon, and Dean found out later that he was rather great at fulfilling needs, but there was something more about him. Something about the deep blue eyes, about his slightly awkward personality, something about his squinty face and his joyful laugher. There was something about his innocent blush when his hand brushed Dean's. Something Dean had never experienced before.

They had met in Chicago. Dean had been there with his brother and father, visiting Bobby, a family friend. Dean had been at a bar, checking people out as usual, and his flirting usually went rather smooth, but when Castiel walked toward him he had felt sweaty and nervous. When Castiel started talking to him he suddenly had trouble finding the words, and when Castiel sat down next to him he found it near impossible not to stare. He could hear the deep voice in his head: "I'm Castiel," and his own reply: "Is it okay if I call you Cas?" Dean remembered the way he couldn't stop smiling once Castiel had tapped his number into his phone, the way his heart had skipped a beat when Castiel suddenly leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Current time Dean still started blankly at the waves as his mind drifted. They seemed so peaceful. The salt water that had been running down his face had left his face sticky and his eyes dry. In one way he wanted to cry even more, but he knew it wouldn't make any difference. He had no tears left anyway. He sighed and tried to swallow away what felt like stuffing in his throat. "Think happy thoughts," he mumbled sarcastically. For a second his mind actually drifted to Sam and John and Mary. But they were family, and Castiel had been family too.

They had stayed in Chicago for three weeks, Bobby kindly allowing them to live in his house. Dean had spent as much time with Castiel as he could. It hadn't been as much time as Dean wished for, because even though it had technically been Castiel's summer break, he had worked quite a bit. Castiel always worked. They had known each other for exactly a week when they first kissed, crammed together on Castiel's couch. Castiel always managed to be gentle yet incredibly passionate at the same time. His kisses had been perfect. Dean just got two weeks worth of them before going back to Kansas.

The two of them had managed their long-distance relationship quite well, constantly skyping or texting. Sometimes they wouldn't even talk, just steal looks at each other whilst each busy with separate things. When christmas came around, Castiel finally had enough time off to fly down and visit Dean. John and Mary had insisted both boys would celebrate Christmas eve with them, and so they did. It must have been Dean's favorite Christmas. It had been so nice. Seeing the way Castiel interacted with his family just felt so right. Dean was glad Castiel had a good amount of money, because that meant he could fly and visit Dean fairly often. Sometimes Dean would visit Castiel too, but not as much. His economic situation was pretty much the opposite of Castiel's.

Dean wasn't the kind of guy who usually enjoyed sunsets, and even though everyone else would probably be caught up in the sight of the sun rising in the horizon, Dean really didn't care. He absently threw some sand around, bit his lip and tapped his foot for a bit. This whole thing was shitty. It was a cruel, cruel world. Dean only wished he could have gone back in time and changed things.

He had moved in with Castiel a year after they first met. He remembered how he'd been trembling the whole seven-hour car trip, filled with excitement and nervousness, pressed in between boxes and duffle bags filled with his things. He could practically feel Castiel's lips on his, his arms around him. They'd been chatting as they carried the boxes, both with joyful smiles on their faces. Dean remembered settling on Castiel's bed. He'd slept in it before, but it had been so different, knowing that finally it was his bed too.

Dean and Castiel had been together four years, and lived together three of those. Every morning Castiel would get up early, and he would open the windows because he loved the fresh morning air. He would make them breakfast, usually pancakes because they were one of Dean's favourite foods, and coffee. Dean would get up, grumpy and tired, but a good morning kiss from Cas always bettered his mood. Once they had eaten Dean went to work for a Bobby at the garage, and Castiel went to work in his family's marketing company.

Dean didn't work as long hours as Castiel, so he always made them dinner. Once Castiel had come home and the dinner was eaten, they would spoon on the couch whilst watching TV until one of them fell asleep. Every Saturday they went somewhere, to visit Castiel's sister Anna, or to the park or the movies. Every time they both had some time off work, they took the impala and went to visit Dean's family back in Kansas. Their relationship had been exactly what Dean had always wanted. And now it was over.

He walked down to the water and splashed some on his face. He then took a deep breath and went back towards the impala. He had always loved his Baby, and he still did, but it was connected to Castiel, just like everything else he owned. As he slid into the seat, it was as if Castiel was still right there next to him, cuddling up to Dean as he drove, chatting about bees and work and books. A little smile appeared on Dean's lips as he though of it.

Dean suddenly felt incredibly jealous of people who went through breakups. It would've been so much easier if only he knew that Castiel was out there somewhere, having the time of this life, even if it was without Dean. But he knew for certain that Castiel wasn't having the time of his life, because his life was over, and the though of that made Dean's heart ache, as if he had a heavy stone in his chest instead of a muscle.

He remembered the funeral. Sam, John and Mary had all been there, and Dean appreciated that more than they could imagine. He felt that Castiel deserved so much more than a priest, his parents, his siblings and Dean's family standing around a coffin. He deserved for the whole world to grief the loss of such a kind soul. Hell, Castiel deserved the entire universe. The coffin had been closed, and Dean was thankful for that. He didn't want his last memory of Cas to be a pale body in a coffin. Not that there was much of a body either, but Dean refused to think about that. He wanted to remember his boyfriend as the pulsating, happy and kind person he always was. He wanted to remember him as  _his_  Cas. 

Dean still didn't have many tears left, and he didn't cry even though he wanted too. Instead he just drove, hands holding onto the steering wheel way harder than necessary, car constantly above the speed limit. The funeral had been three weeks ago, and he hadn't been back since then. He probably would have preferred to stay away, not look back, but he had to sort through their apartment. Dean had left most of his things there, and he had to decide which of Castiel's things he wanted. A part of him didn't want anything. One part of him wanted to forget everything about Castiel, afraid things would never be as good as they were with him. But there was also the part of him that wanted to savior all the memories they had spent together. A part of him wanted to hang on to Cas for as long as he could.

The news had gotten to him while he was at work. Bobby hadn't just yelled his name like he usually did when Sam or Cas called. He'd come out to the garage and asked Dean to come into his office. Dean had known just then that something was off, but he had never imagined the information he was about to get to be as bad as it was. The little television crammed up in a corner of Bobby's office had been on, showing the news. Showing the wreckage of an entire town. Dean's head became dizzy once the news anchor mentioned where she was standing.  She was in the town in which Cas was on a business trip. Tears already streaming down his cheeks, Dean had called Cas. When he didn't answer he had called again and again, until finally someone answered. "Cas," he had said, unable to breath, feeling a tiny bit of hope bubble in him. "Sorry, mate," a deep voice had replied. "Finding his phone inside the wreckage doesn't suggest anything good, does it?" 

Dean attempted not to think as he drove through the familiar city. He parked in the usual spot without thinking about it. For a second it almost felt as if it was a normal day. It almost felt as if Dean just arrived from work, like he should go in and wait for Castiel. For a moment he though that maybe if he did. Perhaps if he walked into the apartment and waited, suddenly Cas would walk though the door and everything would be just like it used to. But Dean knew that wouldn't happen. He walked slowly, afraid of what he would see, but of course, the apartment was just like it was when he had left it. He managed to stuff quite a few of his things into boxes without feeling much. For a little while he managed to manipulate his mind to think he was just moving, that there was nothing  _more_  behind this. But once most of Dean's things were cleaned out, and the apartment was almost like it had been when he saw it the first time, he couldn't deal with it anymore. 

What had been pure sorrow earlier turner into anger, because life was unfair, and Cas was too young, and he shouldn't have been taken away from Dean like this. He picked up a lamp, instantly throwing it to the floor, feeling a surprising amount of relief as it broke against the hardwood floor. He started throwing all objects he could find, kicking and punching things as he went. He kept going like that, appreciative of the pain running through his hand as he punched the wall. Eventually he had no energy left, and slowly walked into the bedroom. He opened the wardrobe and carefully lifted out a worn band t-shirt Dean had given to Cas what felt like such a long time ago. Cas had practically lived in it, and Dean had always felt a rush of happiness when seeing that. Now he buried his face in it. It still smelled like Castiel. It smelled like cinnamon and coffee and just Cas. 

Dean put the t-shirt at the bottom of his duffle bag and proceeded to pack his own clothes on top. He then attempted to clean up the mess he had made. Once he was done he stood by the door, defeated. It was as if Dean had never been there, as if Cas still lived there, just without Dean, and that was just how he wanted it. Castiel's parents would have to clean out the rest. He locked the door, put the key in the mailbox on the ground floor, and exited the building for the last time. Although he had been an emotional mess for weeks, he still felt like absolute crap, but still better than he had that morning. 

As Dean sat down in the impala and started the long drive back, he knew that once he was back in his old place, working at the roadhouse, things back to what they used to be, he would be okay. He knew that a part of him would always belong to Cas, and he would never get that back. A part of him would always feel the need to bury his face in the t-shirt, and think back to all their memories, but that wasn't all he was. Dean knew that eventually, wether is was in two months or ten years, he would find someone else. He didn't want it to be as if Castiel never existed, he just wanted to get to a place where life was bearable, and he had somebody to lean on. As he opened the windows of the impala to get some fresh air, he took a deep breath. Eventually, everything would be okay. 


End file.
